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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29146797">Hope.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:06:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29146797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021: Day 1, "Soulmate saves you from a near-death experience."</p><p> </p><p>There were too many times that Din Djarin had been afraid, but it was now that he really tasted fear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hope.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were too many times that Din Djarin had been afraid, but it was now that he really tasted fear. Blood was on his tongue, sharp and metallic, his heart was beating in his ears. He was only vaguely aware of what was happening, but he could still feel the unrelenting grip of the hand around his throat, the impact of the punches being thrown at him, hit after hit. He tried to fight, but if he was honest, Din really thought that he might die here. </p><p>And he was <em>scared. </em>Not for himself—he’d been at death’s door too many times to truly be afraid of that anymore. No, he was afraid of what would happen if he died and Grogu was left here, alone on this ship with Gideon. Would he think that he’d been abandoned? Or would he know that Din had fought to the last breath for him?</p><p><em> No, </em> Din thought weakly, <em> save the kid!  </em></p><p>Gas was hissing behind him, the red eyes in front of him were burned into his vision, and he was fairly sure he had a concussion. But, for all that it was worth, he had enough wits about him to activate his blowtorch, and soon he felt the heat blister in front of him. The dark trooper had caught fire. </p><p>There was a small amount of hope that sat in Din for a moment, before the dark trooper simply turned back to him and threw him forward, flames extinguishing as it did. Din hit the ground hard, but the adrenaline in his veins overpowered his exhaustion and he propped himself up. The rest of the troopers were there in front of him, trying their best to punch through the glass, and, <em> shab, </em>it was cracking. </p><p>The trooper was behind him, on his tail, Din was reaching for the lever next to the door, so close and then—</p><p>The trooper had grabbed him, <em> too late, too late. </em> It shoved him forward, then kicked him, and Din was sliding helplessly along the ground. Beskar against metal, the sound of it rung in his ears. His body was tired, but he just kept thinking, <em> the kid, the kid</em>, heart hammering in his chest. </p><p>The dark trooper had activated its blaster, but the shots bounced off of his armor, and Din was <em>not </em>going to die here, not while he still had life in him. </p><p>Salvo, he thought, and just as soon as he had, he’d activated them and they were firing. </p><p>It wasn’t deadly like it should have been, but it was a distraction, enough for him to get off the grab and reach for his spear, and stab it into the chink in the trooper’s armor, the spot underneath the neck.</p><p>The wiring of it crackled and sizzled, and when he yanked the spear back the droid finally fell lifelessly to the floor. The rest of those damned things were still there, banging against the glass, but Din went over and pulled on the airlock’s lever. Watching as they were sucked out into the vast expanse of space, a certain gratification filled him. The sensation of it passed through his chest before Grogu again became his priority for the moment, and Din headed toward him once more.</p><p>There were more stormtroopers, but they were just a nuisance now, and gone in a moment. <em> The door, </em>he thought, and as he pressed it to open, there was more fear. He didn’t know what state Grogu was in, whether or not they’d hurt him, whether it was somehow worse than that.</p><p>His questions were soon answered as the door slid open and there stood Gideon, darksaber in hand, the blade aimed down at Grogu.</p><p>Din’s eyes took in The Child first, the handcuffs around his wrists, the way he looked at Din. In that moment, Din had never felt such anger—it boiled in his veins, clenching down in his fists, written into the grinding of his teeth.</p><p>His blaster was in his hand before the thought had fully expressed itself, and it was pointed straight at Gideon, who didn’t seem to be phased in the least.</p><p><em> He was expecting this, </em>Din thought, and it was at that time that the earlier beating started to catch up with him. His head ached fiercely, the lights were so bright that he had to fight not to close his eyes, and a shrewd ringing had begun in the ears.</p><p>Din didn’t care. He walked forward, his gaze fixed on Gideon’s every movement. </p><p>“Drop the blaster,” Din made out from beyond the ringing, “Slowly.”</p><p>Reluctantly, Din lowered his blaster to the ground, eyes fixed on Grogu. </p><p>“Now kick it over to me,” Gideon ordered, and Din complied, sending the thing spinning toward the man’s leg. </p><p>“Very nice,” Moff told him, but Din was in no mood for these games. </p><p>“Give me the kid,” he instructed Gideon, who continued to hold the humming blade in his hand.</p><p>“The kid is just fine where he is,” Gideon replied, twisting the saber left and right just over Grogu’s head. Loathing simmered in Din, dark and deadly.</p><p>“Mesmerizing, isn’t it?” Gideon asked, the barest ghost of a smile playing itself upon his lips. “Used to belong to Bo-Katan.”</p><p>Din stared at him, a faint emotion perched in the back of his mind. </p><p>“Yes, I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan,” Gideon confirmed. “A friendly piece of advice—assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”</p><p>Din huffed, distaste lingering on his tongue. “Where is this going?” he asked, but his mind was racing, considering every single scenario that the future might hold, every way that he might get Grogu out of there untouched.</p><p>“This is where it’s going,” Gideon replied, his voice taking on a certain pointedness. “I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge seeking me, or more accurately, <em> this. </em>” He flashed the blade for emphasis. “But I’m not there.”</p><p>Exhaustion was bleeding into Din like an infection, seeping into every joint of him. Desperation was laying over him like a sheen of sweat on his skin, refusing to release him from its grasp. </p><p>The ghost of the smile that Gideon had was now a full grin, his teeth bared. “And I imagine that they’ve killed everyone on the bridge,” he continued, “Being the murderous savages that they are.”</p><p>The words echoed to Din, but his gaze had fallen to Grogu. <em> Save the kid, </em>he told himself, and it scared him how far he might go for The Child. </p><p>“And now,” Gideon went on, “They’re beginning to panic. You see, she wants this. Do you know why? Because it brings power.”</p><p>Din was beginning to get antsy, too impatient for this. When it came down to it, Din didn’t care about Bo-Katan or this blade, he didn’t care about Gideon’s monologue—he only wanted Grogu out of there, Grogu safe. </p><p>“Whoever wields this sword,” Gideon proceeded, “Has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.”</p><p>He was watching Din for a response, but Din gave him no such vindication.</p><p>“You keep it,” he said, “I just want the kid.”</p><p>Grogu’s gaze lifted up to Gideon, who seemed to consider the thought for a moment. “Very well,” he said, shutting the blade off. “I’ve already got what I want from him. His blood. All I wanted was to study his blood.”</p><p>Din was half in disbelief, but he listened as Gideon continued to talk. </p><p>“This Child is extremely gifted…” Gideon mused, “And has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.”</p><p>Din looked down at Grogu, only hoping that Grogu was alright, that the process hadn’t hurt him. Grogu’s big eyes stared back at him, a silent plea hidden behind them. </p><p>“I see your bond with him,” Gideon remarked, and Din’s gaze snapped back to him. He could only stare. He had nothing more to say, nothing more he could muster out of him. </p><p><em> Please, </em>was in his mind, but also anger, and that rendered him silent.</p><p>“Take him,” Gideon said, “But you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.”</p><p>Din was hesitant, distrustful—but he was also desperate, and it was that desperation that motivated him to step forward, watching Gideon for a sudden move that didn’t come. </p><p>No, Gideon let him step up to Grogu, and relief started to trickle through him. Grogu lifted his hands up, displaying the handcuffs for Din to release, and he reached toward them. </p><p>A sound played, the sound of activation, <em> darksaber, </em>Din thought, and on pure instinct he shifted, turning the back of his armor toward the sound of the blade. It clashed against it, and Din stepped back, blocking the next hit that he knew would come with the beskar that covered his forearms. </p><p>Then he lifted his arms, one by one, to dodge the relentless strikes. Again and again and again, sparks flew, erupting from the impact of the saber on beskar. The two of them were out of the prison cell now, back in the main hall, and Din had seen enough. He reached for his spear, taking a stance, his instincts kicking in. Then he lunged forward, the strike blocked by Gideon, who made a strike of his own. Din stopped the blade mid-movement, losing himself in the rhythm of the battle—lunge, block, dodge, strike. Where the saber hit his spear, it glowed orange. He could almost feel the heat of it. The heat didn’t matter—Gideon thrust at him again and Din blocked, forcing the blade into the wall. </p><p>Pressing forward, Gideon forced Din backwards, the darksaber still embedded in the wall, which was starting to catch fire. More heat, arms screaming with effort, another block, another kick, another dodge. He fired his grappling hook, but Gideon effortlessly cut through it. </p><p>He threw another blow at Din, which was blocked again, and it was then that Din thrust his spear toward Gideon’s neck. Gideon caught it, but only just, the two of them struggling for the upper hand. Gideon’s position was unstable, and it was Din’s turn to force him forward, toward the wall, kicking him into it. Gideon attempted another swing at him, but Din blocked it again and slammed Gideon’s hand against the wall, knocking the darksaber out of his hand. </p><p>Din threw a blow at Gideon’s face and it landed, causing Gideon to stumble back and lose his footing. Out of breath, unarmed, and with beskar pointed at his throat, Gideon tasted defeat the same as he tasted the blood in his mouth.</p><p>“You’re sparing my life,” he said, sounding more amused than surprised. “Well, this should be interesting.”</p><p>Din didn’t like the sound of that. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They were pounding against the door. Din knew they would get through, knew it even though he desperately hoped for the opposite. <em> A platoon </em>, he thought, his blaster pointed at the entrance. It didn’t end, the sound echoing through the room. Din could feel fear in the air, feel the hesitation, the tension. Vaguely heard Gideon speaking, but didn’t process his words. </p><p>They were all just waiting, wondering what would happen when those doors gave way, wondering how many would fall. Wondering if this was worth it. He was only hoping that one of them could live, one of them could get Grogu to safety. His grip tightened on his blaster, waiting, waiting, waiting. </p><p>And then came the sound of an alarm. Din turned, seeing a ship in the distance. The pounding from the troopers continued, but now his focus was elsewhere. </p><p>“An X-wing,” Koska said, heading over to the monitor, while the others stayed fixed in place. </p><p>“One X-wing?” Cara remarked, “Great. We’re saved.” </p><p>She aimed her blaster back toward the door, and Din kept his gaze fixed ahead too. More silence. As far as he was concerned, that X-wing was only another threat. He was incredibly uneasy, mind going over any and every possibility. </p><p>“Incoming craft, identify yourself,” Koska instructed the ship, but there was no response. Only the sound of the troopers, still trying to get in, the sound of their punches still echoing. There was something there that Din couldn’t explain, lingering among his emotions. The hair on the back of his neck was beginning to stand up, and he felt like he was holding his breath. And then it stopped. It all stopped. He was frozen in place, still waiting for that door to give any moment. But it didn’t come. </p><p>“Why did they stop?” Fennec asked, but none of them had an answer. They turned their eyes to the monitor, but Din kept his attention on Grogu, who seemed to suddenly be restless. He heard blaster fire in the background, but only part of his mind acknowledged it. </p><p>“A Jedi?” Bo-Katan asked, and that was what finally got Din to move, to turn his gaze toward the screen. <em> The seeing stone— </em>had it worked? Had Grogu had sensed something there, his powers giving him an unseen connection?</p><p>Din gazed on it, seeing what the rest of them had all taken in. The stranger was hooded, and they carried a lightsaber, clearly skilled with it. Din watched as the figure fought the troopers, effortlessly taking them on. It was quick, easy. Din wondered if Grogu would one day become this, if he was trained properly.</p><p>Suddenly, there was a commotion behind him, and Din whirled around—Moff Gideon had reached for a fallen pistol, grabbing it and aiming it at The Child, firing several shots.</p><p>Din threw himself forward, feeling the impact of the blaster against beskar, blocking anything from hitting Grogu. Turning to make sure the kid was alright, he sat up, heart pounding. </p><p>“Drop it,” Fennec instructed, and Gideon gazed around at them, taking in all the weapons that were directly pointed at him. Abruptly, he pointed the pistol under his throat, but Cara got there first. She knocked it out of his hands, then butted him in the face with her blaster, knocking him back to the floor. </p><p>The hooded figure was still there, still taking on the dark troopers, and Grogu had drifted over to the screen to watch them. Whoever this was seemed to float rather than move, each deadly flash of the blade just as graceful as it was fatal. Din could only watch in awe as trooper after trooper fell, as they were sliced through like <em>nothing. </em>Could it really be a Jedi? </p><p>As the troopers fell away, the figure continued on their path—to the doors. To Grogu. </p><p>Grogu turned to Din, giving him a pleading look, and there was something in the pit of Din’s stomach that knew what Grogu was telling him, knew what he needed to do. Carefully, he lifted Grogu into his arms. </p><p>“Open the doors,” Din instructed, but everyone else only stood motionless, distrusting.</p><p>“I said, open the doors,” he repeated, but his words had no more impact than the first time he’d said them.</p><p>“Are you crazy?” Fennec asked, blaster at the ready, aimed at the door. </p><p>Din gave her no response. He set Grogu down in a chair and opened them himself.</p><p>The first thing he saw was smoke, the surreal green light of a lightsaber. As the smoke cleared away, the hooded figure walked forward, deactivating their lightsaber and clipping it to their belt. Then they slowly removed their hood.</p><p>It was a man. His gaze fell upon Grogu first, then Din, who shifted uneasily. He felt as though the man’s eyes were piercing his soul, wearing him thin, seeing every secret that he had ever wrapped up inside him. </p><p>“Are you a Jedi?” he asked, unable to find any other coherent thought inside of him.</p><p>“I am,” the man confirmed. </p><p>Something inside of Din deemed him paralyzed, completely unable to move. His thoughts were senseless, unmoving. He had only ever heard tales, but…</p><p>In his earliest memory, his mother had told him of one that would complete him. There were those, she had said, that were intertwined in one’s destiny from the beginning. She had told him that the moment he laid eyes upon them, he would know them and they would know him. That it was fate. </p><p>Din was not usually one for stories or for romance, and he was not sure he felt either at the moment. But he was very sure that there was a bond between him and this Jedi, clear as the day. </p><p>“Tell me your name,” he managed, not sure why he was asking. Not sure what he was looking for.</p><p>“Luke,” the man said, “Luke Skywalker.”</p><p>Din had felt many things through his life, fear, anger, even love. But now, with the sound of that name, he felt hope. </p><p> </p>
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